Sally the girl
Sally the girl was an inch long arthropod (I believe specifically a millipede) that haply scooted it's way into Amy's sandbox earlier this week and immediately became the center of attraction for two blue little eyes.
"Mommy!" Amy squealed. "I've found a PET! Can I keep it inside?"
"ARG," I inwardly groaned. I'm really NOT into pets. Especially little pets that might scoot themselves out of pet containers. However, I also want to encourage the natural inquisitiveness found in children. "Well, MAYBE....."
That was taken as a yes by my nature enthusiast and that's how a millipede came to live in the Nelson house. After finding a jar, a few twigs/and other rotting vegetation which a google search indicated millipedes live on, the millipede was duly escorted into the house.
After a brief argument over gender, Amy triumphantly announced the name: Sally the girl.
For 48 hours, Sally the girl was the center of two children's lives. She was placed on the table for all meals, accompanied children to the playroom, sat by the piano during violin, and even was carried to bed (but not actually allowed in the bed).
Sadly, somewhere between her 48-50 hours of captivity, Sally the girl died. Poor Amy was heartbroken.
"Mommy," she sobbed. "That poor millipede. I'm so SAD she died." Then suddenly, her face brightened. "Mommy, let's take Sally outside and put her in the grass. Maybe when she feels the nice soft grass she will resurrect!"
I tried to explain that animals don't just "resurrect." Amy got the point but her conclusion of the matter surprised me.
"Ok, Mommy, she said sadly. But next time I won't get a pet millipede because then it will come in the house and DIE. I'd rather leave it outside so it can eat grass and LIVE!"
"Mommy!" Amy squealed. "I've found a PET! Can I keep it inside?"
"ARG," I inwardly groaned. I'm really NOT into pets. Especially little pets that might scoot themselves out of pet containers. However, I also want to encourage the natural inquisitiveness found in children. "Well, MAYBE....."
That was taken as a yes by my nature enthusiast and that's how a millipede came to live in the Nelson house. After finding a jar, a few twigs/and other rotting vegetation which a google search indicated millipedes live on, the millipede was duly escorted into the house.
After a brief argument over gender, Amy triumphantly announced the name: Sally the girl.
For 48 hours, Sally the girl was the center of two children's lives. She was placed on the table for all meals, accompanied children to the playroom, sat by the piano during violin, and even was carried to bed (but not actually allowed in the bed).
Sadly, somewhere between her 48-50 hours of captivity, Sally the girl died. Poor Amy was heartbroken.
"Mommy," she sobbed. "That poor millipede. I'm so SAD she died." Then suddenly, her face brightened. "Mommy, let's take Sally outside and put her in the grass. Maybe when she feels the nice soft grass she will resurrect!"
I tried to explain that animals don't just "resurrect." Amy got the point but her conclusion of the matter surprised me.
"Ok, Mommy, she said sadly. But next time I won't get a pet millipede because then it will come in the house and DIE. I'd rather leave it outside so it can eat grass and LIVE!"
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